Trust
by JackiLeigh
Summary: An angsty fic about the aftermath of a Winchester brawl.


TRUST

Dean was still…too still. Sam and Dean had had another round. And for Sam, it was like he was outside his body watching what was happening. He had seen his hands around his brother's throat. He had seen his body, his arms work, with superhuman strength to lift Dean's body, by his neck, until his feet were completely off the floor.

Sam had ignored his brother's pleas, actually squeezing the older man's neck until the protests ceased, his head fell forward, and his body went limp. Sam then let go and his brother's body crumpled to the floor. He lay completely still as Sam stared.

The young Winchester had not realized the damage. Dean's shirt had been ripped open and now, the beginnings of fresh bruises were showing through. Dean had cuts on his face which were superficial. He also had some on his chest, which were deep and oozing blood. Sam could not remember inflicting so much damage. He could not remember doing the things he had obviously done. He had not intended to cause so much harm. He had not intended to inflict such pain and hurt on someone he loved. He looked down at his brother once again, as tears filled his eyes.

It had been a week. A week since he had called 9-1-1 for help and had followed the ambulance to the hospital. Dean had been rushed into the E.R. then into surgery. He was found to have several broken ribs. One of which had punctured his left lung. He had a concussion. The elder Winchester also had a fractured right wrist and a badly sprained left ankle.

Sam sat slack-jawed and disbelieving as the doctor read the list to him. He could not wrap his mind around the fact that he had inflicted so much pain, so much hurt. It only made him feel worse. The guilt was like a lead weight in his stomach and on his heart. He was hurting. He had to do something. First, he called Bobby and asked him to come to the hospital. He told the older hunter what he had done. Even though he, at times, was sure he was talking about someone else. But then, all he had to do was look through the observation window, where his brother lay, unconscious and broken. Second, he picked up a bottle and tried to dull the pain. Sam was very drunk by the time Bobby arrived and tracked him down to the sleazy motel about 3 blocks away from the hospital.

Bobby had stopped by the hospital first. He was shocked at what he saw. Dean was injured, badly. He didn't think that the mild-mannered Sam Winchester could do that to anybody, much less Dean. He loved his brother way, way too much to hurt him like that.

Bobby couldn't understand why Sam was not with his brother. Dean needed to have somebody with him when he woke up, that was for sure. But it shouldn't be him, it should be Sam.

"What the Hell, Sam?" Bobby asked as he walked into the young Winchester's motel room. It was not hard to find the man. The Impala was parked right outside. And a car like that stood out. Bobby closed the door and observed the scene in front of him. Sam was obviously drunk. He had a bottle in his hand and a few empties littered the floor of the room, with a few sitting on the table. The floor was covered with food containers, some with spoiled food in them, some just the empty container. There were food and drink stains on the carpet and the room had an odor. And the closer he got to Sam, Bobby noticed that he did too.

Bobby shook his head. He was not like this. This was not Sam. Sam was a very clean person. He picked up after himself. And most of the time, he picked up after Dean, with little complaint. It was just what he did. And after all these years, he was used to it.

"Bobby!" Sam said holding up his beer to his friend.

"What are you doin', Son?" Bobby asked as he made himself a place to sit on the bed. "What are ya doin?" He said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I'm drinkin', Bobby." Sam replied.

"Yeah, I can see that." Bobby conceded. "I want to know why."

"I…I screwed up." Sam stated. "I hurt him, Bobby. I hurt Dean."

"Dean is going to be fine." Bobby said with more confidence than he felt. He really knew very little about the man's condition. He had tried to talk to the doctors and nurses. But nobody would willingly tell him anything.

"You don't know that." Sam said as he took another drink from the beer bottle he had in his hand. "You don't know that." Sam tried to stand, but he swayed on his feet and decided to sit down again.

Bobby shook his head but didn't speak.

"I told him I wanted him dead, Bobby." Sam said, the pain evident in his voice. "I wanted him dead." He said, miserably. "And it looks like I'm gonna get my wish."

Bobby shook his head. "Oh, Sam…you didn't…you didn't mean that."

Sam shook his head. "Yes, I did. I did, Bobby. I kept my hands around his throat until he had passed out."

"But you let go." Bobby reminded him.

Sam shrugged. It didn't mean much to him. He shouldn't have had his hand around Dean's throat to begin with. "…only after he stopped protesting, pleading with me, only after he shut up." Sam shook his head as he drank a little more.

Bobby stood and walked over to Sam. He took the bottle out of Sam's hand. "…enough of this, Son." He sat the bottle on the table. "Poisoning your liver and getting hammered is not going to help you or Dean."

Sam stood up. "The best thing I can do for Dean is to leave him alone." He shook his head. "I just…you stay with him. He won't want to see me."

Bobby looked at the young Winchester disbelieving. "Dean will want to see you."

Sam shook his head. "He needs some time…time to heal, get better. Then, maybe, he'll want to see me."

Bobby looked at the younger man. He was in no shape to go to the hospital. Bobby got him to the bed and helped him to lie down. He was passed out in minutes. Bobby then went around the place looking for booze. He dumped what he found down the sink.

Bobby returned to the hospital, but unfortunately, Dean's condition was unchanged. He was still on a ventilator. And he was still unconscious. The doctors had been talking about more surgery, something about an exploratory and then something about pressure on Dean's brain. Bobby knew what none of it meant, but it didn't sound good. He didn't like the idea of the doctors just opening Dean up just to see if they missed something or something new was happening. Plus, the way Dean looked, the older hunter was not sure that the young man could take another assault to his body.

"Doc, can you…?" Bobby said, asking the parade of doctors who came in and left the room without so much as a word to him. He would ask questions, plenty of questions. But he was ignored or his questions were only half answered. And he was getting extremely frustrated.

"Look, Mr…Singer, is it?" The latest young doctor said. "We have to protect patient privacy."

"Patient privacy, my ass!" Bobby said as he stood. He began to raise his voice. "This boy here is the closest thing I have to a son. So, somebody better start telling me something!" He practically growled at the young man.

The doctor took a step back, unsure what to think of this guy. "I'll go see what I can do."

"Yeah," Bobby said sitting back down and trying to calm himself. He mumbled under his breath. "You go do that! Idjit!"

"A little respect for the infirmed, here." Dean said. He had opened his eyes when Bobby started yelling at the doctor. But he had not said anything. He almost wanted to feel sorry for the doctor. But he couldn't help but smile about the actions of his 'Uncle Bobby.'

"Dean?" Bobby said, shocked the young man was awake. He reached down and gently cupped the back of Dean's head. He had to make sure what he was seeing was real.

Dean nodded, and Bobby felt the elder Winchester's head move in his hand. He was overjoyed. But the joy was short lived.

"Sammy?" Dean looked Bobby in the eye. "Where's Sam?"

"Sam…he couldn't be here." Bobby replied, as vaguely as possible.

"Couldn't or wouldn't?" Dean asked.

"Both." Bobby replied.

"What…what does that mean?" The elder Winchester asked.

"That means he's too drunk, right now, to be here. And he says, if he was able to come, you wouldn't want to see him."

"He's right about that." Dean said under his breath.

"What?" Bobby asked.

Dean shook his head. He closed his eyes again. His head was hurting and he was in pain. He pushed the button on his morphine pump and in moments he was feeling the effects.

"Dean!" The older hunter knew it was only a matter of time before Dean fell asleep again. He wanted to find out what he meant, to explain himself.

"Sam said he wanted me to die. He was tired of…of just being the little brother. He was tired of me bossing him around, and he was tired of me always having my way because I'm older. " Dean replied. "He said he was just sick of me."

"Dean, that's…I…."

Dean shook his head. "Sammy's right, Bobby. I don't want to see him."

"He's tearing himself up over this, Dean. He's…."

"Good!"

"Good?" Bobby couldn't believe his ears.

"Yes good. He had his hands around my throat, choking the life out of me…."

"Son, I just think…." Bobby stopped, Dean was out again. The medicine was working very well. The older hunter took his seat beside the bed and waited.

Bobby decided to leave about an hour later. He headed back to the motel to check on Sam. He found the younger Winchester still asleep. He stayed with Sam for a while before heading back to the hospital. He was very afraid that the young man would do some more self-medicating.

SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN

Dean recovered quickly. The ribs were still sore and the wrist still hurt a little. But he was better. The swelling on his brain had resolved itself, so no further surgery had been needed. And in a few days he was ready to leave the hospital. He still had not seen his little brother.

Bobby had tried to divide his time between both Winchesters. He was getting ready to go to the hospital when Sam told him he wasn't going.

"Sam, Son, Dean is okay now. He wants to see you. He will want to see you." Bobby replied.

"He hasn't even mentioned my name, I bet." Sam guessed.

"He looks around the room for you. Every time he wakes up, Sam, he expects to see you. And he's disappointed when he doesn't."

Sam shook his head. He didn't believe it. How could Dean ever forgive him when he couldn't forgive himself?

Dean wasn't happy with Sam, by any means. But he had spent a lot of time thinking about what Sam had done to him. The younger Winchester needed to know where he stood with his brother.

Dean walked out of the hospital. The doctors and nurses had wanted him to go out in a wheelchair. But he absolutely refused. He would walk out of the hospital. He was not an invalid. So, he walked, well he limped out. His ankle was still tender. Bobby carried his bag because his wrist was in a cast.

Dean saw Sam sitting on bench outside the hospital. He walked in that direction and Bobby followed. The elder Winchester sat down beside his little brother. But he didn't speak for a moment or two.

Dean didn't look at Sam. He couldn't. He knew if he looked at Sam and saw the pain on his face or the tears in his eyes, he wouldn't be able to say what he needed to say.

"I want to trust you, Sam. I do. But it…it's gonna take time. I just, I need a little time and space to deal with it all."

Dean could see Sam nod out of the corner of his eye.

"I get it, Dean. I understand." Sam said. "And just so you know. I regret everything I did and everything I said. I am so sorry."

Dean nodded, but didn't say anything as Sam got up and walked away.

THE END


End file.
